Toujours Pur
by the word crafter
Summary: Narcissa Black has always been different. Her wealthy, pure-blooded family struggles to conform her, her mother especially. At her first year of Hogwarts, the young witch is faced with a choice that could change her life.


It was too much for her. Tears trickled down her smooth, young cheeks. The weight of being different pushed down on her shoulders—her mother's disapproval rang harshly in her ears—she was still too young to understand the concept of individualism, so her mum's word was law. Crumpling to the scratchy, carpeted floor, she wondered if she could ever live up to all that her mother had ever wanted to be—and what she convinced herself that she desired, as well.

"Cissy! Hurry up, we're going to be late for the train!"

Narcissa Black glanced up towards the door to her room, setting down the portrait at which she'd been staring. Her sister Andromeda's head protruded through the opening. Sighing, Narcissa packed the frame among the new school clothes squashed in her trunk, and, lifting her wand, headed towards the door.

"Aren't you the least bit excited?" asked Andromeda.

"No," replied Narcissa honestly. "I can't think of anything worse."

Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. It's your first year at Hogwarts, where you'll learn magic and make friends and have sultry love affairs…" She laughed animatedly, her hair turning a vibrant yellow.

"Drommy, you've done it again," said Narcissa, gesturing towards her sister's scalp.

Clapping her hand over her head, "Drommy" squeezed her eyes shut. Seconds later, her hair returned to its normal raven black. Sighing, Andromeda again turned to face her younger sister.

"Thanks, Cissy," she murmured quietly. "Don't know what Mum would say…" Drommy shook her head, as if to clear her mind of the thought.

"'S fine," replied Narcissa absently. Dragging her heavy trunk down the narrow stairs required quite a bit of concentration, and she didn't have time for her older sister's anxiety. Although Drommy had spent the better part of the summer attempting to control her wildly provocative features, that wouldn't stay put. Being a Metamorphagi took a harsh toll on the young witch, and sometimes even Drommy's training couldn't reign it in. If Mummy knew, or even Auntie Black, there was no telling what would happen. In the meantime, it became her's and Bella's job to warn her.

"Well," said Drommy, her spirits lifting quickly, "I'm sure you'll change your mind once you're at Hogwarts. It's wonderful there, way better than this place. And I don't have to hide anything."

"But I don't _want _to leave this place. I don't _want _to go to Hogwarts, or sleep in the dungeons, or get attacked by the Giant Squid, or learn incantations. I want to stay here, with Mummy and Daddy," whined Narcissa plaintively. "It's much better here; I don't have to be around stupid children (besides you and Bella, half the time.)"

"Thanks!" chuckled Drommy. "Thanks a lot, Cissy." She slapped her sister playfully on the back.

"Well, if you're that determined to hate a place you've never visited, who am I to stop you? You just go on inventing difficult situations in your head while I go join Bella and Mummy and Daddy on the carpet." She shook her head, this time to suggest that Narcissa's own mind was failing her. Striding off towards the exit of the house, Drommy left the young witch standing, her trunk pulled up alongside her.

Narcissa looked about the great, dark house. She stood in the parlor, which had, according to the family tradition, been painted a dark, midnight black. On the wall opposite the plush recliner was painted the Black family tree. The branches and leaves had always entranced her—finding her own name and face among the family always delighted her. Still, the portrait was very little like her. Although in appearance, it mirrored the young witch, its movements were not in sync with her thoughts. She tittered and giggled absently; a girl after Bella's own heart—but she, Narcissa, was nothing like her older sisters. She was serious, thoughtful, intuitive. Something her mother didn't like, and that Narcissa had come to question about herself.

"NARCISSA!"

She jumped from her reverie. Tugging her obstinate trunk behind her, Narcissa pushed open the front door of her home and headed into the blinding sunlight of a different world.

* * *

><p>"This way, Cissy," said Bella. With her frizzy black hair and her dark, gorgeous eyes, she was definitely the sexiest of the Black sisters. Just a year younger than Drommy, who was entering her sixth year, Bella Black was the most sought-after witch in the whole of Hogwarts—at least, that's what it seemed like to young Narcissa.<p>

"Right, right, Bella," she muttered. Her parents followed behind the pack of girls, walking at a stately, noble pace. She'd always loved to watch the pair; although, to an outsider, they might seem indifferent and unloving, she could tell that they were really the best of friends, and deeply in love, by the way that they walked—inches apart, struggling not to lean on one another and hug and kiss. She'd grown up used to this type of affection, and her parents seemed the ideal model of all that was right in a relationship, or even a marriage.

Her father's jet black locks complemented her mother's sleek, blond hair. His jaw was strong, hers pointy and elfen—his eyes were small and bright blue, hers large and a deep, chocolate brown. Narcissa had been told that she looked like her mother, and she always liked to think that one day she'd be just as beautiful.

Bella and Andromeda charged headfirst into the thick, brick wall, disappearing instantly. Although she'd watched her sisters depart through the wall for years, it still shocked her. She'd never had to try it herself—her parents had always stayed resolutely on the other side with her. But now, she had to breach the seemingly impossible barrier. Knowing that her parents were behind her was little comfort to the small witch.

She had to board the Hogwarts Express, though. And so she began to run, pushing the cart carrying her trunk ahead of her. Hearing the squeak of the unoiled wheels and the thud of her terrified heartbeat, she pushed herself towards the brick wall, hoping, praying that she wouldn't crash. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced herself for the inevitable impact.

Instead, she heard the loud _toot_ of a large train and the smell of smoke wafted to her nostrils. Opening her eyes, Narcissa opened her eyes. In front of her, at a standstill, stood the Hogwarts Express. As her parents appeared behind her, she felt her breath knocked out of her by the sheer power of the occasion—she was leaving home. For _Hogwarts_, a place she'd never visited nor seen in pictures—a home away from home that she only knew from stories.

"Cissy, come here," murmured her father, resting a hand on her shoulder. Narcissa let herself be drawn into a hug. As her mother's cold lips touched her forehead, she felt all of her anger and anxiety disappear. She was loved, she realized. She was loved, even though she was different.

Now, Narcissa realized, she was ready for anything.


End file.
